An odd and eerie silence filled Troy the next morning, the day after Corythus had died by his father's knife. The sun barely rose in the dark sky and it showered little light over those Trojans who left their homes to take advantage of the next sixteen days when there would be no fighting.

As Helen did not return to their chamber that night, Paris was left with the body of his son. He sat there all night, cradling his son's body and sitting in his blood, until dawn came and then he left his chamber.

He walked through the palace, blood spread over his hands and robe, but he spoke to no one, even though they questioned him, until he reached Andromache's chamber. He hammered his blood covered hand on her door, and was surprised at how quickly she answered.

"Paris?" said Andromache, opening the door slightly, still dressed in her night robe. Her eyes wandered over Paris and she gasped at the sight of blood. "What's happened? Whose … whose blood is that?"

"I didn't know it was him," stuttered Paris, his eyes heavily bloodshot. "I didn't even know he existed, how could I have known? Why didn't she tell me?"

"Who existed, Paris?" asked Andromache and stepped out of the chamber, closing the door behind her so Astyanax would not wake.

"My son!" cried Paris, angry that Andromache did not understand what he was saying. "My son is dead, Andromache, dead!" He then sunk down to the floor and burst into a fit of tears.

"Oenone?" Andromache whispered to herself, and she suddenly remembered, years ago, when Oenone had come to Troy when Paris was in Sparta. She could see the image clearly in her mind of Oenone crying at Hecuba's feet, and how her stomach … how her stomach had swelled.

Andromache crouched down beside Paris and held his head against her chest, and he clung onto her.

"Paris," she said calmly, although she did not feel calm, "where is he, where is your son?" She looked down to Paris for an answer and saw he was trying to gain control over his tears.

"In my chamber," mumbled Paris as tears slipped past his lips. He then looked up to Andromache, desperate for her to believe that he didn't know it was his son. "I didn't know who he was, Andromache, I didn't know."

"I know," said Andromache quietly. She stood to her feet, noticing how the blood now stained her robe also, and helped Paris to his. "I'll come with you now, Paris, to see him, but first I need to get Astyanax's nurse." She left Paris standing outside her chamber, and went to collect the nurse before leaving with Paris to his chamber.

Paris led Andromache to his chamber, clasping onto her hand for support so he would not fall as he felt faint. He ignored the looks of the servants, surprised that one of them had not notified his father, and they finally reached the chamber.

Andromache entered Paris's chamber, seeing everything in its rightful place, however, as she looked across to the far side of the room she saw something that did not belong … a child's body.

Sickness rushed up Andromache's throat when she saw Corythus on the floor, but she swallowed it back down which caused a burning sensation to erupt in her mouth. She stared at the boy, shock sweeping over her face. She had believed Paris, his appearance did not lie, but she was still stunned to see a young boy lying on the floor, dead.

"What am I going to do?" asked Paris, as he stared at his son. He had never felt a stronger urge to turn back time and change his actions, not even when he had brought Helen to Troy.

Andromache was silent for a few moments, staring at the body. She finally tore her eyes away from the awful sight and turned to Paris. "Oenone must be told, she may not even know that he had come, and will not know … what has happened."

"Even after all these years," whispered Paris, almost as if he were speaking to himself, "I still … love her and now I've destroyed our child."

"You didn't know it was him," said Andromache and rested her hand on Paris's shoulder. She looked again to the boy and imagined Astyanax lying there, and she knew that there would be no words which would prove to be a comfort to Oenone when she learned what had happened.

Corythus's body was taken to Oenone on Mount Ida by soldiers of Troy. Paris did not go with them; he could not bear to look at Oenone after their years apart to only tell her that he had killed their son.

Paris was stunned into silence once Corythus's body was taken to Oenone; he sat in his chamber alone and glared at the blood stained floor which, despite vigorous cleaning from the servants, could not be cleaned.

Helen refused to enter the chamber after what had happened, and as the blood would forever stain the floor she was moved to another chamber, but Paris did not follow her for a few days. Even when he did return to Helen, he was distant with her and barely spoke a word.

Thoughts had been bothering Andromache since Paris had told her what he had done, and so she walked through the palace halls to her mother-in-law's chamber where she hoped she would find her answers.

She knocked lightly on the door, her bracelets rattling against one another as she did, and waited until a servant admitted her into the chamber.

Sweltering heat and the scent of burning oils greeted Andromache as she entered Hecuba's chamber, she looked to see a fire crackling to the side of her and was surprised her mother-in-law could be cold when the day was so hot.

Hecuba sat in a chair at the far side of the room, handmaidens sitting at either side of her, and looked directly at Andromache. A thoughtful gaze clouded the queen's eyes as she looked at her daughter-in-law, reading her thoughts.

"You may leave us," said Hecuba to her handmaidens, her eyes fixed on Andromache. Her handmaidens obeyed her without question and left the room silently.

"You have come to talk about Oenone, I presume?" asked Hecuba quietly. She had heard the news that Paris had killed his son, and felt enormous guilt sweep through her because she could have prevented it.

"Yes," said Andromache, surprised that Hecuba knew. She sat down in the chair Hecuba gestured to, before speaking again. "I remember seeing Oenone with you when Paris was in Sparta. Did you know she was with child then, is that why she came?"

Hecuba was silent for a few moments, choosing her words. "I knew Oenone was with Paris's child, she told me." She then sighed quietly and sipped some of her watered wine before continuing. "I told her to go away, I thought that Paris would not care if he had a son or not."

Andromache looked at her mother-in-law and saw how tortured she was by her actions.

"When Paris returned home with Helen," said Hecuba, clasping the goblet of wine in her hand, "I tried to find Oenone, thinking that Paris could marry her and Helen could return to Sparta, but she was not to be found in the forest where she and Paris met."

"Did you not think to look elsewhere?" asked Andromache angrily, her curiosity becoming the better of her.

"I did send people to look elsewhere," answered Hecuba, "but I could not send people to look forever, not when Troy was at war."

"Of course," said Andromache quietly, she knew people could not be spared to look for a woman when there was war at their gates.

"What is done is done," said Hecuba sadly, tracing her finger along the rim of the goblet, "and no amount of prayers or tears will change that."

Andromache nodded, already knowing the bitterness of Hecuba's words. She still bore the torment of Hector's death, she yearned for him each day, and even though Achilles was dead, he would not come back to her.

"How is Astyanax?" asked Hecuba suddenly.

"He is well," said Andromache and smiled.

Seventeen days of peace for both the Greeks and Trojans had passed, and they now met on the battlefield. They broke out from their lines and attacked their enemies, doing so in a way that almost suggested it was routine for men to fight and die on the plain.

Paris fought on the plain, wielding his sword against all those that dared to attack him. A new found rage had entered him after he had killed his son, a rage that flowed through his sword and into his victims.

Priam and Helen, along with the Elders and various members of royalty, watched from the walls as the Trojan army fought. Their bodies were tense with fear, especially Priam's as he had grown to loathe the sun rising each day because it signaled another day of war.

Polyxena sat in Andromache's chamber with her, silently playing with Astyanax while Andromache watched.

Andromache had witnessed a drastic change in her sister-in-law after Achilles had been killed, she assumed Polyxena was shaken by his death but could not understand why as she confessed to not loving him.

After Achilles had been killed, Andromache had almost expected, despite her previous thoughts, that she would find some relief knowing he was dead, but she didn't. She only felt annoyed that he had not been killed sooner, that he had not been killed before fighting Hector so Hector could have lived.

As each day passed Andromache found herself looking at Astyanax and seeing him look more and more like his father. Instead of it being a comfort to her, it was becoming almost unbearable because she feared that he would grow up to be like his father and be a warrior, then be taken from her just like Hector had.

"He's grown so much," said Polyxena, breaking the silence and tearing Andromache away from her thoughts. She smiled as Astyanax slobbered on her hand, more of his teeth were coming through and he had taken to biting anything in sight.

"He has," said Andromache and smiled sadly, dreading when the day would come if he grew to be a man and was made a warrior. She looked at Polyxena and rested her hand on top of hers. "If anything is bothering you, Polyxena, you can always tell me."

Polyxena smiled and laughed weakly. "Nothing is bothering me, I'm fine." She then lowered her gaze from Andromache's eyes, not wanting her sister-in-law to detect the lie within her eyes.

Seeing her death in Achilles's eyes was what tormented Polyxena, the thought had become wedged in her mind and it would not leave her. She had even convinced herself that she was hallucinating; that she had never seen her death in Achilles's eyes, that it was not possible, but her mind would not allow her to lie when she knew it was the truth.

Andromache nodded, not wishing to press her friend if she did not wish to tell her. She picked Astyanax up from the floor, where he played with his wooden animals, and rested him on her lap.

"Water," said Astyanax and pointed to his cup which held his drink. He smiled when Andromache passed him the cup and helped him drink it.

"Have you seen Paris after … what happened?" asked Polyxena, wishing to change the topic of conversation. She watched as Astyanax sat comfortably with his mother, inwardly thinking of how it would be for her to have children.

"No," said Andromache quietly, she had still not forgotten the horrible image of Corythus's body on the floor, "he has probably been occupied with the war to see any of us."

Polyxena nodded, although she knew that Paris had only been occupied with the guilt of what he had done. She could relate to her brother's guilt, as she too felt guilt for her part in Achilles's death.

The cries of men dying echoed within Paris's ears as he fought against the Greeks with his fellow Trojans. Each cut that Paris dealt into another man's flesh reminded him of how he had killed his son.

Men continued to charge at Paris and he weakly aimed his bow at them, having dropped his sword onto the floor as it was so heavy and he felt incredibly weak all of a sudden. He shot each man down around him, though it left him feeling exhausted afterwards and he tried to pick up his sword when he was suddenly shot with an arrow in his side.

A loud groan of pain and shock came from Paris's mouth and he staggered slightly. He looked down to his side, seeing blood trickle from his wound like wine. He tried to pull the arrow from his side, seeing that the cut was not deep, but suddenly felt faint and fell to the floor.

Paris looked across to see Philoctetes, a Greek who was said to have inherited the bow and arrows of Heracles, sneering evilly with a mad glint in his eyes. His eyes then closed slowly, his eyelashes resting against his pale cheeks.

Helen still watched from the walls and cried aloud when she saw Paris had fallen. She rushed down from her throne beside Priam and to the edge of the walls. She peered over the edge, looking at the one she loved even though he did not love her in return.

Priam stepped down to Helen's side, just as soldiers gathered around Paris's body and carried him into the city. The king felt another stab at his heart at seeing another one of his sons fall on the plain, but he restrained from weeping and went with Helen to see Paris.

Still unconscious, Paris was taken to the royal healing house and lain on the bed to have his wound examined by the physician. His temperature was beginning to soar and he was shaking slightly, as if he was shivering.

Helen sat by Paris's side, crying hysterically as she caressed Paris's hand. She could not bear to lose him; he was the only thing she lived for now and with him gone she would be alone in the world.

Priam watched from the side, finally allowing tears to fall from his face because he could not control them anymore. He had seen too many deaths, including the death of his son, to keep from weeping now that his only living son was injured too.

Hecuba had been notified by the servants of what had happened to her son and she ran from her room and to the healing house, tears flowing from her eyes. She had only begun to overcome the death of Hector, and could not face having to do all of that again for Paris too.

"Oh gods, not Paris too!" cried Hecuba and she sat on the other side of Paris, ignoring Helen. She looked to the physician for an explanation, desperate to know whether or not her son would live or die.

"The arrow wound seems small," said the physician, his voice shaking slightly as he looked to those around him, "yet he is deeply effected by it. I can only assume that the arrow was poisoned."

"Are there any remedies?" Priam asked quietly, fearing the answer.

"I do not know," admitted the physician, incredibly uncomfortable at being looked upon by his king and queen with so much hope for their son's recovery in their eyes, "but if there is we will find it."

Following the king's orders for a remedy to be found, the physician sent countless people to find one but there was no such remedy within Troy. He tried to make the prince, who had remained unconscious and only mumbled slightly during the night, as comfortable as possible but without a remedy the prince would soon die.

Hecuba and Helen remained at Paris's side all night, each taking it in turns to dampen his brow as it was the only thing they could do except wait for a remedy. Andromache had come during the night, once Astyanax was asleep and with his nurse, but she could not stay for long because her son soon awoke with sore gums and only wished to see her. Polyxena and Priam had also come various times during the night, though they could do nothing and returned to their chambers to await news there. It was only Cassandra who did not go to see her brother; instead she lay in her own chamber, shrouded within her own world of despair because she knew what would happen but could not prevent it.

As the sun rose it became apparent that a remedy would not be found within Troy's walls and Priam was preparing for men to be sent out into the forests to look, when Paris suddenly awoke.

Paris grasped his mother's hand within his own, and felt all of his energy drain from him as he spoke. "Take me to Oenone, mother. She … she knows … take me to her, I need to see her … I love her." He then fell silent and slipped into a state of sleep again, unaware of the look of pain on Helen's face.

Helen stared at Paris, exhausted with sleep deprivation from sitting at his side all night, and suddenly her tears ceased. She had known Paris did not love her in the way she had hoped, but she had never expected him to love someone else.

"Oenone?" questioned Priam and looked to his wife, confusion in his tone.

"Oenone was his son's mother," said Hecuba and she avoided Helen's glaring eyes, "I believe she is blessed with the knowledge of healing herbs."

Within an instant Helen had concealed the heartache within her eyes and was once again the faithful lover to Paris. She continued to stroke his hand softly, and brushed the beads of sweat from his burning temple.

"Forgive me for speaking plainly," said the physician, noticing the sudden tense feeling in the room, "but if you know of anyway to help Prince Paris then you must tell me … if he remains untreated he will die."

Priam nodded solemnly and stared at his son for a few moments. He could not lose another son, not now, and so he ordered for Paris to be taken to Mount Ida, where they had been told Corythus came from.

A/N: Thank you for all of the reviews :)

Queen Arwen – Thank you for the review and I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter, thanks :)

Priestess of the Myrmidon – The person you asked does die and that person does die in the myth too. Thank you for the review and I'm glad you liked the last chapter, you rock too :)

Gaby – I'm afraid Paris doesn't go to Oenone with Corythus's body, as you will see in this, and I don't think he went in the myth either. You're right though, it was the least he could do. Thank you for the review :)

Lady C – Thank you for reviewing all the chapters you did :) I'm sorry I didn't include any of the A/B relationship, but I wanted to focus more on Achilles and Polyxena. I'm really glad you like this, and that this is your favourite fic, thank you!

Caz – Thank you for the review! I'm glad you liked the last chapter and that you like how I tell it, thank you :)

Kal's Gal – I'll definitely keep going, thanks for the review :)

Topezgrl – Thank you for reviewing chapters 55-57 :) I'm glad that you like that I'm sticking close to the book and I'm glad you liked the chapters, thank you!

Mel – Thank you for reviewing and staying up to read this, thank you! I'm really glad that you like this, and thank you for the compliment :)